conclusion of the speech was received with a burst of silent gratitude.
A good part of the whispering had been occasioned by an event which was
more or less rare the entrance of visitors: lawyer Thatcher, accompanied
by a very feeble and aged man; a fine, portly, middle-aged gentleman
with iron-gray hair; and a dignified lady who was doubtless the latter s
wife. The lady was leading a child. Tom had been restless and full of
chafings and repinings; conscience-smitten, too he could not meet Amy
Lawrence s eye, he could not brook her loving gaze. But when he saw this
small newcomer his soul was all ablaze with bliss in a moment. The next
moment he was showing off with all his might cuffing boys, pulling
hair, making faces in a word, using every art that seemed likely to
fascinate a girl and win her applause. His exaltation had but one
alloy the memory of his humiliation in this angel s garden and that
record in sand was fast washing out, under the waves of happiness that
were sweeping over it now.
The visitors were given the highest seat of honor, and as soon as Mr.
Walters speech was finished, he introduced them to the school. The
middle-aged man turned out to be a prodigious personage no less a one
than the county judge altogether the most august creation these children
had ever looked upon and they wondered what kind of material he was made
of and they half wanted to hear him roar, and were half afraid he might,
too. He was from Constantinople, twelve miles away so he had travelled,
and seen the world these very eyes had looked upon the county
court-house which was said to have a tin roof. The awe which these
reflections inspired was attested by the impressive silence and the
ranks of staring eyes. This was the great Judge Thatcher, brother of
their own lawyer. Jeff Thatcher immediately went forward, to be familiar
with the great man and be envied by the school. It would have been music
to his soul to hear the whisperings:
Look at him, Jim! He s a going up there. Say look! he s a going to
shake hands with him he _is_ shaking hands with him! By jings, don t you
wish you was Jeff?
Mr. Walters fell to showing off, with all sorts of official bustlings
and activities, giving orders, delivering judgments, discharging
directions here, there, everywhere that he could find a target. The
librarian showed off running hither and thither with his arms full of
38